"Oh, how pleasant to
go sailing down the river of life like this, everything quiet and
peaceful, just driftin'"--
"Ahoy!" yelled the mate suddenly from the bows. "Who's steering? Starbud
your hellum."
The skipper started guiltily, and put his helm to starboard as another
barge came up suddenly from the opposite direction and almost grazed
them. There were two men on board, and the skipper blushed for their
fluency as reflecting upon the order in general.
It was some little time before they could settle down again after this,
but ultimately they got back in their old position, and the infatuated
Codd was just about to wax sentimental again, when he felt something
behind him. He turned with a start as a portly retriever inserted his
head under his left arm, and slowly but vigorously forced himself
between them; then he sat on his haunches and panted, while the
disconcerted Codd strove to realise the humour of the position.
"I think I shall go to bed now," said Mrs. Bunker, after the position
had lasted long enough to be unendurable. "If anything happens, a
collision or anything, don't be afraid to let me know."
The skipper promised, and, shaking hands, bade his passenger good-night.
She descended, somewhat clumsily, it is true, into the little cabin, and
the skipper, sitting by the helm, which he lazily manoeuvred as
required, smoked his short clay and fell into a lover's reverie.
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